


Metamorphosis

by SerenStone



Series: Destiny 2 Prompts [21]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anthem Anatheme, Do Not Do As the Warlock Do, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenStone/pseuds/SerenStone
Summary: Prompt: DrownWorking on the sequel to (Don't) Go Quiet. This is a segment that I know for certain will be in the final product but also stands alone.Several bits of dialogue and description pulled from Lore and/or in-game events.Takes place before Fascinate.
Series: Destiny 2 Prompts [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583290
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Metamorphosis

Drowning, Shry knew, meant she was dead. The surface of the water some infinite distance above. The faces of the loved and lost some infinite distance below. The Light still reached her; dead thing that she was, she could feel the Traveler’s grasp even in death. She could make out Isaac’s Light just beyond her reach. The water’s embrace held her in place and she felt no fear.

“You,” a familiar voice brushed velvet across her senses. “Shall drift.” She couldn’t place it, not at first, but a shiver of unease lingered in the base of her spine. No, something was touching her. Shry twisted in the water, searching for the source. “You are alone,” it said, in a tone that was impossibly tender, regretful, a warning come too late. A touch on the back of her hand. She searched, squinting as the water darkened. “There is no Light here,” a kindly reminder that resonated in her bones and she screamed underwater as the sensations coiled round her, impossibly warm, tempting, a welcoming-home. 

Xol.

“You’re dead!” she shrieked, writhing, reaching for enough Light to fight and finding no purchase. “I killed you!”

“You are alone,” Xol agreed, somehow amiable in his obscenity. The chitinous plates of the great worm shifted around her, cradling her in his easy clutch. She could find neither Isaac nor the Traveler, only Darkness and its gentle, good night. “You,” his voice was a caress. “Shall drown in the Deep.” 

Shry managed to get an arm loose enough to hold up a one finger salute. “I know how to swim, bitch.”

“You shall drift,” he said again: tolerant, placid, charmed.

“That all you can say?” she growled, aggravated. All but the alone line she had heard before, the first time she’d met Xol. She really wasn’t loving this whole peculiar and diverting specimen scenario.

 _Do not be revolted,_ a whisper slipped through her mind from no clear source.

“You want respect? Stay out of my head,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“The unsacred union between destroyer and destroyed: death is metamorphosis.” If it wasn’t too much for her fragile calm to consider, she would have said that Xol sounded high. “There are parasites that may benefit the host; teeth sharper than your own, destroyer mine.” The dark water trembled, rippled with a word she only heard as “aiat.” A touch on the back of her raised hand, a ghost of sensation on her finger. She felt sick. What opportunities had she presented Xol with by killing him? 

“Fuck no. I killed you because I wanted you gone. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“You are alone,” it was a reminder, a threat, and a question all at once. The coils stilled.

“Irrelevant. I am not with you and I am not yours.”

“An engine to make your desire hegemon over your conditions. Wield me and use me to test your foes.” Again the water rippled with the word “aiat.”

It was becoming hard to think, hard to focus. “I said no, Xol. I say no.”

The worm stirred at his name and his coils resumed their dance. “You are alone,” he said again, mournful, grieving. “You shall drift.”

“That bother you, big guy? That I’d rather be alone than with you?” Shry had no weapon other than her words. 

The worm hissed, not with displeasure but in thought. “Metamorphosis,” he whispered and she felt it in the base of her skull. Caution, musing, decision. His form shifted incomprehensibly and she found herself directly underneath god-worm’s dreadful eye. “You shall drown in the Deep.” It was dismissive. It was final. It was condemnation. It was a command. “Drown.”

The coils around her vanished and she dropped like a stone from a great height. The farther she fell, the heavier the colorlessness pressed in against her, until finally it pressed into her nose, her ears, her eyes, her mouth and poured. She felt both her stomach and her chest grow heavy and full, her ears burst, the pressure in her throat building. And still she fell. And still it poured.

And still she fell. And still it poured.

And still she fell. And still it poured.

And still it fell. And still it poured.

And still it fell and still it poured.

And still it fell and still it poured.

And still it


End file.
